Awake in the Dark

Its the middle of the night, and I sit awake, in the quiet dark with a warm cat curled up against me, sharing soft warmth. I should be asleep but I fight it. I don’t know why, I just do. There is noise in the silence in my ears: a whoosh, a roar, a buzz.

Landmarks in Time

Time marches on. It rides the ebb and flow of tides. You try to keep it confined by the blocks on a calendar page, or a numbered dial, but the truth is, you cannot confine time to a block or a clock or a moment in time. It passes like a blur. Too quickly to

I found a poem

This Sunday past I browsed some of the scraps of paper in my Bible. I came across a long forgotten poem. I am not sure if I put it in digital form anywhere, so I will write it here and share. Snow Flies Snow FLies Through Frosted Skies Saturated with White Light Winter Clouds Windy

Becoming

Becoming You are so becoming Becoming You are a butterfly and you are becoming Vibrant and alive Fluttering feeble wings make mighty strides carrying yourself on the wind o’er tides you ride Strong as the wind You are becoming. Deborah D Fleet 9-8-2021

Monuments in Time

Yesterday I met one of those monuments. It wasn’t the final monument, but it was one that pointed in that direction. The final monument was March 22, 2021. Yesterday, July 31, 2013 was another monument along the way that pointed to what we know is in store for all of us. The end. In 2013,

Friday Poetry – revisiting my past

I feel ornamental.

The immobility of being immovable

Sure, beyond Immovable is a pretty clever use of words and sounds. But on the other hand, being immovable pretty much is useless. I have great motives, but not motivation. I desire to move, to inch away from being immovable, but it is like moving a mountain. In fact, it takes faith the size of

Surviving Christmas

Whew! Who knew widowhood would be so tough? It is sneaky and likes to set traps and snark attacks when you least expect it. I had gotten a small fiberoptic tree, lightly decorated it, with gnomes, had been doing Christmas shopping throughout the year, was prepared to try some holiday baking, then BAM, and it

September in a Blender

This was our time Our month the slightly cooler still sunny and bright the falling leaves the retreats or prayer workshops anniversaries and birthdays touching each other separated by mere days. September in a blender with October apples pumpkins leaves campfires starry skies holding hands separated for time of prayer and recollection reflection.It was a

Melancholy Monday

Melancholy Monday munches up my time sitting staring at the sunshine golden on green leaves Thinking of words and times and rhymes no reason yet reasonable to meander, to dream, to ponder. Grief threatens to unleash itself upon the ground too soaked to absorb wondering pondering wandering in my mind to timepast. Yet one word